A Little Magic
by Denise Felt
Summary: Cmdr. Straker has his life turned upside down by a visitation from fairies.


**A Little Magic**

**(A UFO Story)**

by Denise Felt 2009

**Prologue**

"What's the situation, Alec?"

Col. Freeman looked around at the burnt out huts and rotting corpses littering the clearing before answering his commander. "It's bad, Ed," he said finally. "As bad as it gets. It's good to hear that Peter shot down that UFO that lifted off from here, but it was far too late for these poor suckers. It looks like the aliens went through this village with some heavy artillery. These bodies are riddled with bullets; which I suppose was a blessing in disguise, because at least they were dead before they were eviscerated."

At the communication center in HQ, the commander closed his eyes on a sigh. When he opened them a moment later, they were as hard and cold as his voice when he spoke into the microphone to his second-in-command. "Get the cleanup crews in place, Alec, then get back here. I'm going to want your report as soon as you land. We need to know why this African village was targeted, and if this is a pattern that the aliens intend to implement again."

"Right," Freeman began, only to be interrupted by a shout from one of the soldiers at the far end of the village.

"Hang on, Ed," he said into his radio. "I think we've got something." He watched as the message was relayed down the narrow dirt road and other men sprang into action. One of the men swiftly relayed the details to him before joining the others running toward the first soldier's position. He spoke excitedly into the radio. "Listen, Ed! I think we caught a break. We've found some children hidden in a cave nearby. It looks like the people here had enough warning to get them to safety before all hell hit. I'm going now to see what shape they're in. I'll get back to you when I know more."

Straker kept his hand steady with an effort as he handed the mike back to Lt. Ford at communications. "Let me know as soon as Alec lands, Ford," he said coldly before going into his office and closing the door.

But as he sat behind his desk, he noticed that his hands were shaking after all. _Children? _Good God! They had enough trouble dealing with traumatized adult survivors of UFO attacks. How were they supposed to handle traumatized children?

**Chapter 1**

One week later, he still didn't have the answer to that question. He'd overseen the transferral of the children from the small, heavily guarded wing of the hospital to the slightly larger rest home just outside Harlington. The staff there were willing to assist the fourteen youngsters of varying ages to accept their new circumstances, but helping them overcome the trauma of losing their parents and families to such a horrific attack was another story. They needed specialized personnel, trained to deal with situations like this. Unfortunately, staff like that was going to be hard to come by.

"We need specialized personnel," he murmured to Col. Lake as they passed the well-kept lawn between street sets on their way to the main building of the studio.

She kept up with his brisk pace from long practice. "We wouldn't if we could give them the amnesia drug. Dr. Jackson said yesterday that he thought he might be able to adjust the dosage for a child."

Straker gave her a withering look. "And would you trust a child's welfare to Jackson's tender care, Colonel? We've already discussed adjusting the dosage. In its current form, it's too strong for a child's system to handle, and if we lower the dosage enough for there to be no side effects, it's too small a dosage to do them any good. No. We're stuck dealing with them as they are, and it's not an eventuality we've ever had to consider. Somehow we've got to make life bearable for those children. And since we've got to face the fact that they may never be able to go out into the general public for the remainder of their lives, we'd better come up with a viable solution."

She grimaced. "Yes, sir."

He started to add a comment, but stopped when he saw some fairies dancing across the lawn. They were heading away from him, so he couldn't identify them. But by their sizes, he was able to discern that one was a woman and the other two were young girls. He knew that the studio was not currently producing any fantasy films, so it made no sense that they'd have fairies on the lots. He doubted that it would turn out to be a serious security matter, but it paid to be alert. He would check into it when he had some time free this afternoon. His morning schedule was far too full already.

Virginia Lake made no comment about him stopping in the walkway, merely waiting patiently for him to resume walking before saying, "Child psychologists don't usually choose to go into the military. So far, we haven't found anyone that has the qualifications necessary for the job."

"Keep looking," was all he said as they entered the main studio building.

She grimaced once more, but not so that he could see. "Yes, sir."

* * *

"It looks like they've found a scheme that works," Alec said as Straker entered his HQ office.

The commander sat behind his desk with a sigh. It had been a week of long days and equally long nights trying to deal with all the fallout from the attack on the village. He for one would be very glad when things settled back down to a normal routine.

He looked up at his friend. "I was afraid of that. They've done it before?"

The colonel handed him the report in his hand. "We just got this in from our field troops. They've been doing air reconnaissance throughout the area surrounding our village. They've found four other villages within a hundred mile radius that show the same type of damage. I've got Lt. Speers heading the ground crews. They're going in now to give the destroyed settlements a closer look. We'll know more once he reports back."

Straker nodded as he looked at the report in his hands. "If there's anything there to see, we can trust Will to find it." He pulled out an aerial shot from the back of the report. "God, Alec! Look at the extent of the damage! Why are we only now finding out about this?"

Freeman refreshed his drink before taking a seat in front of the desk. "I know, Ed. I know. But as far as we're aware, we've only lost track of two UFOs in the past year. You've got to admit, that's a pretty good record."

The commander remained grim. "If it's true."

Alec met his eyes and sighed. "If they're slipping through our radar without being detected at all, we're in far bigger trouble than losing a few villages."

Straker ran a hand over his eyes. "Tell Speers that I want a time frame for the destruction of those villages, Alec. Don't wait until he's written his report. I need those numbers as soon as possible."

"Right."

* * *

"I'm telling you, Straker. I need another DA. Turner's an idiot!"

The commander nodded absently as the director ranted about his latest assistant. It was nearly impossible to please Hoffman, but there was no denying that the man did incredible work. So Straker merely waited until he wound down and then said calmly, "Try and put up with him for a few more days. The romantic comedy over in Soundstage 2 will wrap by then, and I'll give you Clarence. You liked his help when you were doing your last picture."

Hoffman said, "Thanks. I appreciate it. Clarence does do a good job assisting. Anyone's got to be better than what I'm working with now! I think if you gave Turner a brain transplant, he'd still end up being an ass!"

Straker's lips twitched slightly at the comment, but before he could make a reply, Lt. Ford came up to him and handed him a thin folder.

"The results of the lighting test, sir," he said.

"Thank you," the commander said. He left the director with a nod and walked out of the soundstage with the lieutenant, perusing the report as he went.

His brisk pace slowed as he read. "This is good news, Ford. These villages were destroyed over a three year time frame. That means that they aren't getting through radar without us knowing. These dates all coincide with times where we've lost track of a sighting."

"But what would they want there, sir?" the lieutenant asked. "The geo scans of the area show nothing interesting that they might be looking for. It's mostly jungle, and when it isn't that, it's barren rock."

"True, but there is one commodity there in good supply that was easily acquired because of the remote location and lack of a defense network."

Ford looked at him in bewilderment. "What would that be?"

"People, Ford. People."

"Oh." The lieutenant felt like a fool for not figuring that one out for himself.

The commander's eyes twinkled momentarily at Ford's look of chagrin, but then he saw the fairies again and stopped, remembering that he hadn't checked them out yet with security. They were up in a tree not far from the walkway and merely looked back at him as he stared. The woman had a short cap of red hair and the greenest eyes he thought he had ever seen. Probably contacts. She had a sharp little face that perfectly suited her fairy costume. The two little girls could have been sisters in their fairy costumes. They both had light brown hair and grey eyes. And as they sat very still in the tree and watched him, he felt almost pulled out of the hassles of the day and into the quiet spot where they were. It was the oddest sensation, almost as if they were truly . . .

"Sir?"

Straker blinked and focused back on the lieutenant. Ford was looking at him strangely, not understanding why he had stopped walking. "I'm sorry," the commander said. "I was thinking."

"Yes, sir."

Straker closed the folder he carried and continued on his way with the lieutenant to the main building. But his thoughts kept straying back to the fairies.

* * *

The studio's security chief was Baker, a bulldog of a man who seldom smiled, but had no trouble keeping the complicated assortment of actors, directors, camera and lighting crews, and office personnel in their proper place and well out of any sensitive areas around the studio. Straker knew that there was no way the studio could run so well without Baker's devotion to duty.

"Do you want me to set a detail onto them, sir?" the chief asked when the commander had inquired about the fairies on the lots.

Straker shook his head. "No. That won't be necessary. I don't think they're up to anything dangerous. I'll check it out myself. Thanks."

"Is that a good idea?" persisted the chief. "What if it's a trap of some sort?"

The commander almost laughed at the thought of their menacing enemy using fairies to set a trap for him. He kept his face grave, however, when he answered Baker.

"I'll be fine."

The security chief merely grunted in reply, but his careful eyes followed the commander's progress away from the main building until he was lost from view beyond one of the soundstages. Only then did he return to his office.

* * *

They had wandered to the back of the lots and were dancing among the wildflowers on the side of a hill when Straker found them. He heard their laughter first, then saw the woman twirling the girls around, their pretty dresses and wings flying out at all angles as they swept through the air. Again he felt that odd sensation, and he had to stop and take a deep breath to center himself before approaching.

They saw him, of course, as he walked toward them. The woman stopped twirling the young girls and stood still, calmly watching as he drew nearer, for all the world as if she owned the hill and he was the intruder. The girls stood at her side, and they too waited quietly.

When he reached them, he said, "You seem to be lost. May I help you?"

Unexpectedly, the woman grinned. Her entire face lit up, and her green eyes twinkled with mischief. "No," she told him, then crouched down and encouraged the girls to turn cartwheels down the hill.

He blinked in shock for a moment, then said a little more firmly, "Can you tell me what you're doing here?"

She lifted a brow at him and said, "Are you the King of the Fairies?"

He set his teeth at her evasion. "No. I'm Straker. This is my studio."

She seemed unperturbed by that information, almost as if it were an unimportant detail. She met his eyes boldly and said, "Then you are of no use to us. You may go."

"Excuse me?" he asked in frigid tones, only to realize he was speaking to her back as she headed down the hill to where the girls were picking flowers. He almost went after her, but stopped himself in time. He didn't want to cause a scene in front of the little girls. He watched them for a moment longer, and gradually realized that he could no longer ignore the feeling stealing over him that the world they inhabited was an infinitely sweeter one than his own. He sighed. How nice it would be to simply join them in their innocent revelries! To escape for an hour the load that was weighing him down.

But they had already refused him. He didn't think they'd take kindly to him forcing his way into their games. Unless . . . What had the woman asked him? Of course! He headed back toward the main building complex, certain of what to do.

**Chapter 2**

"Where's Commander Straker?" Paul asked as he came out of the HQ office. He'd headed straight there when he'd arrived, and had not given anyone a chance to tell him that the commander was out.

Col. Lake answered. "He's on the studio lots. I think he went to deal with a crisis with one of the directors."

Col. Foster rolled his eyes. "Can't someone else deal with that? He hasn't given me an answer yet on whether I can head up the team doing the upgrades on Moonbase's computer system. He said he'd have an answer for me today."

Virginia gave him an ironic look. "Do you want to tell him that he should let someone else handle studio concerns?"

He had the grace to grimace, but said a moment later, "Well, I want to know what he's going to do. I'm going to go upside and find him."

Col. Lake watched him head toward the elevator and shook her head, murmuring softly, "You're such a fool, Paul!"

* * *

Foster was heading toward the soundstages when he noticed a small crowd of people gathered just off the walkway up ahead. He wondered where security was and almost called them on his radio to come and disperse the crowd, then he got close enough to see what was going on and was glad he hadn't made the call.

The commander was sitting on a fake tree stump under the shade of a tree. _Playing a flute_. He was dressed in iridescent grey tights and an elaborately embroidered blue tunic a few shades darker than his eyes. As if that were not enough, he also sported large iridescent wings and a crown made of filigree work, as well as soft shoes with curled toes. Paul vaguely remembered the getup from the film they'd done a few years back of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. But what was Straker doing wearing it now?

When the flute solo ended, there was applause and most of the small crowd continued on to wherever they'd been going. A few scattered diehards remained, perhaps hoping for another song. Paul came forward and stood beside his commanding officer beneath the tree.

"Sir?"

Straker grinned, his eyes twinkling at Foster's baffled expression. "Hello, Paul." He waited until the colonel was just about to speak, then impishly began playing another flute solo. His eyes positively danced with wickedness as they met Foster's for a moment. Then he closed them and concentrated on the song.

When he opened them again, he saw one of the little fairies skipping toward him. She was smiling hugely and came right up to him across the lawn, then sat at his feet. She seemed even more ethereal and delicate on closer inspection. Her large grey eyes seemed much too big for her face, and he realized after a few minutes that they seemed that way because of the dark rings under them.

He finished the song on a crescendo and bowed slightly to the applause from the small crowd on the walkway. He ignored Foster standing impatiently at his elbow and kept his eyes on the little fairy.

After a moment of silence, she asked softly, "Are you the King of the Fairies?"

"I am," he replied. "Who are you, fair sprite?"

She gave him a sweet smile. "I am Marie, and the Queen has made a feast for your pleasure beside the pond. Will you join us?"

He smiled gently in return. "I would be honoured." And he rose and took her tiny hand. They walked away, leaving the colonel sputtering in protest.

* * *

She led him to the park situated on the back lot, where a small stream fed into a pond near a copse of trees. A large blanket had been laid out on the grass near the pond, and the head of the studio's craft services department was setting trays of food in the center of the blanket under the supervision of the woman. Guilo's dark eyes twinkled merrily when he saw him approach with the young fairy.

"Ah!" the Italian master chef said, waving a hand grandly at the food trays. "We have here a feast worthy of you, my Fairy Lord. All is made ready for you."

Straker wondered how Guilo had ended up in the middle of all this, but knew better than to spoil the moment with questions now. There would be time enough for that later. "Thank you, Guilo. It looks delicious."

Guilo chuckled, knowing that the fancy little cakes and pastries might tempt the appetites of two young girls, but would hardly appeal to the commander. "Coffee?" he asked slyly.

Straker grinned as he sat on the blanket. "Thank you." Guilo handed him a full cup and screwed the cap back onto the thermos, setting it near the commander.

The chef bowed grandly to both Straker and the woman before saying, "_Buon appetito!"_

The commander watched him leave the park, then turned to meet the eyes of the woman seated next to him on the blanket. She twinkled at him, and he was certain that she was aware of his intense curiosity. But all she said was, "Come and eat, my sweetings!"

The two young fairies ran over, dropping the sticks they'd been dipping into the water. They seemed just a little shy of him as they came to the blanket, and he smiled at them over his coffee cup to set them at ease.

"Marie, Carly, won't you welcome the King of the Fairies to the feast we've prepared for him?" the woman asked them.

They delighted him by giggling, dropping him curtseys before they sat.

"Are you _really_ Oberon?" asked Carly, who was obviously more skeptical than Marie.

Before he could answer her, Marie rolled her eyes and said, "Of course, he's Oberon, Carly! He's even wearing the same suit he wore in the movie!" She gave him an apologetic smile for the silliness of her friend, and Straker winked at her in return.

She giggled again before daintily selecting one of the tiny cakes to eat.

Carly seemed more resigned than convinced, but she asked no further questions. She ate with a gusto that Marie lacked and consumed a good portion of the pastries before running back to the pond to play.

Marie probably finished no more than three of the little pastries on her plate, in spite of how often the woman tempted her to try just one more. She ate with a delicacy entirely in keeping with her costume, and Straker was intrigued by her. There was a stillness about her nothing like other children of her age, and she said little, seeming content to sit and watch while he and the woman exchanged pleasantries over their meal.

The woman seemed to notice his interest in the girl, and after a while she said quietly, "The feast for you, my Fairy Lord, was Marie's idea. She has long wished she might visit you here in Fairyland."

"Indeed?" Straker asked. "Well, Marie, I thank you for the thought. It has been a splendid feast, one I'm sure I'll remember always."

She grinned shyly at him. "You are my favorite fairy of all. Faye gave me a picture of you from the movie, and I keep it by my bed, so that I can look at it whenever I want."

"Yes," Faye said. "And now you'll have another picture to look at, Marie." She pulled out a small camera and snapped a shot of Straker and Marie sitting on the blanket.

Marie grinned, and Straker edged closer to her. "Take another," he said softly to Faye and shared a smile with Marie while the camera snapped.

"Well, Marie," the commander said while Faye put the camera away. "I think you must be my favorite fairy."

She giggled, but shook her head. "Oh, no! Titania's your favorite fairy. I know."

He lifted a brow at Faye. "And are you Titania?"

Her green eyes laughed at him as she said, "Not a chance! I'm just a lowly stand-in for the Queen."

"And how is the Queen of Fairies these days?" he asked impishly.

She didn't even hesitate before answering. "She's fine. Busy. You know how it is. There are so many fairies, and only so much time."

He smiled ruefully. Yes, he _did _know. Time was a commodity of which he never had quite enough. But he was grateful for this quiet hour beside the pond and was loath to leave. "Well, I appreciate you helping Marie with her feast."

"It was my pleasure, O King of Shadows."

He nearly jolted when he heard himself addressed with those words, but remembered as he met her eyes in shock that it was one of Oberon's titles from the play. She gave him a quizzical look, and after a moment he said, "But surely we are spirits of another sort."

She grinned at the quote and nodded, but said nothing as she watched Marie lay her head on Straker's lap and close her eyes.

The commander was bemused and sat very still, not wanting to disturb her. After a few minutes, he gently touched her soft curly head and said quietly, "Is she asleep?"

Faye had to swallow before she said, "Yes. It's been a very full day for her." She got up and went to where Carly was playing at the bank of the pond. After a few minutes' consultation, they came back to the blanket.

"Our tea is over, and I need to get the girls back home. Let me just take Marie for you."

But when she went to lift the sleeping girl, Straker stopped her. "Allow me," he said and carefully stood, cradling Marie in his arms. "What about the picnic?"

"Guilo said he'd have a crew pick it all up shortly. Can you carry her all the way to the car, do you think?"

"Certainly. She hardly weighs a thing," he assured her. "Are you parked in the main parking area?"

"Yes. It's a bit of a walk, I'm afraid."

He smiled at her concern. "It's not a problem. The King of the Fairies can handle anything." He winked at Carly as she walked beside Faye, and she grinned back at him.

They reached the parking area without being accosted, although they got several looks from those they passed on the walkway. Straker could sympathize a little with those who saw them. Fairies were a rare sight at any studio, and especially this one. He laid Marie back against the seat of the car, and Faye strapped her in as Carly got in the other side of the car.

Faye smiled and held out a hand to him. "Thank you for everything. You've made all her wishes come true."

He shook her hand, but did not immediately release it. "I'm glad. Is she ill?"

She looked at him in surprise. "Yes. I'm sorry. I thought you knew. Both Marie and Carly are wards of the Jonson Foundling Hospital."

Straker stiffened. He had heard of the private hospital, which devoted most of its funding to the care of terminally ill orphaned children. He glanced into the car where the two girls sat, one asleep and the other playing quietly with a doll. "You mean, Marie is . . . ?"

"Dying? Yes." She laid a hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry. I explained all this to your secretary when we set up the tea."

He shook his head. "I haven't spoken to her all day. I'm afraid I haven't been in my office at all. It's been a busier than normal day."

"Oh," she said, smiling ruefully. "So you really didn't know who we were when we met you earlier. I thought you were playing a joke for the girls."

"The joke was on me, I'm afraid."

"I'm so sorry," she said, but her eyes were twinkling.

"Yes," he said drily. "I can see that."

She covered her mouth with a hand to stifle her laughter. After a moment, she said, "Well, in spite of all that, you seem to have figured out why we were here."

His smile was very sweet. "Actually, I just wanted to join you for a while. You seemed to be having much more fun than I was."

Her answering smile was kind. "Then I'm glad we were able to lighten your day."

"You did. Thank you." He waited until she got into the car and drove away before heading into the main studio building.

**Chapter 3**

When Miss Ealand saw him enter his office in his fairy costume, she sighed with relief. "Oh, sir! Did you meet up with Faye and the girls then?"

"Yes," the commander said, taking the mail from her and looking it over. "We've just finished our tea."

"I'm so glad! I tried to reach you to let you know of the appointment, but no one knew where you were."

"Somehow I managed to be at the right place at the right time without your help, Miss Ealand," the commander said facetiously. "It almost makes me believe in fate."

"Yes, sir," she said calmly, refusing to respond in kind. "Did the girls enjoy the tea?"

"I believe so. What can you tell me about this woman? Is she their nurse?"

Miss Ealand checked her notes. "No, sir. She is a volunteer at the hospital. The matron spoke highly of her when I contacted her to confirm everything. Apparently she arranges these events for the children using her own funds. Gives them a last wish or something like that."

His brows lifted. "That must get costly. How does she afford it?"

She shrugged. "From her trust fund, I would assume. She's from the Dadd family."

"_The_ Dadd family?" Straker asked in surprise. "I thought the younger generation of Dadds were all very wild."

"Her older sister and brother both are, from all reports. Faye's the youngest and keeps out of the public eye."

The commander shook his head. "I've spoken to Richard Dadd on several occasions at various functions over the years. He has mentioned his children many times, but I don't recall a Faye."

Miss Ealand said, "That's because her first name is Clara. She doesn't use it, though, preferring to be called by her middle name, Faye."

"I see." The commander tapped the mail against his palm for a moment, then said, "Thank you, Miss Ealand. I'll be downstairs if anyone needs me."

Miss Ealand's eyes widened. "Dressed like that?"

"Hmmm?" He suddenly seemed to become aware of how he was dressed, and his eyes twinkled. "Well, perhaps you're right," he said and left the outer office to go change.

* * *

He dreamed of his son that night. They were laughing and running around the studio as they had that final day. Somehow in the dream he knew this was John's last day, and that made it all the more difficult to laugh as though nothing was wrong. But he did it – he acted the part, because he wanted his son's last day to be wonderful. Then the tone of the dream changed. Somehow they'd become separated, and no matter where he looked, he couldn't find John. He revisited all the sets where they'd been, and each place now looked completely different. Everywhere it was dark with a creeping fog. His voice echoed hollowly when he called his son's name, and his breath came out in chilled puffs as he ran frantically from set to set.

At length, he came to the park. The fairies were there having a picnic, and John was with them. Straker went to them, too relieved on finding his son to be angry with him for getting lost. But they ignored him, eating their little cakes and laughing amongst themselves. He went to take his son by the arm to get his attention, but Faye stopped him.

"What are you doing?" she asked him coldly. "You'll spoil their last wish."

"No," he explained. "John's not one of them. He's not dying. We have all day."

"Do you?" she asked and gestured with her arm.

He looked and saw all three of the children lying lifeless on the blanket, their cakes half-eaten by their sides. "_No!_" he cried, falling to his knees in anguish. "Not yet! _Not yet!_"

He woke with tears streaming down his face.

* * *

By midafternoon the next day, he accepted that the only way to deal with the nightmare was to face it. He sat back in his chair in the HQ office, put aside the stack of reports still waiting to be read, and called Miss Ealand, asking her to connect him to the Jonson Foundling Hospital.

The matron was away from her office, but he was referred to the assistant matron, Miss Birch. She answered the phone cordially enough, but when he identified himself, her tone chilled.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Straker?" she asked dismissively.

He refused to let her tone bother him. "I had the pleasure of meeting Marie and Carly yesterday at the studio. I was wondering how they're doing today?"

She said, "Marie has fallen into a coma. We have no idea if she'll come out of it. Carly is doing as well as can be expected for a child who's terminally ill."

Straker gasped. "But Marie was fine yesterday!"

Miss Birch replied, "That was before she went off doing what no sick child should. She needed rest, Mr. Straker. Not a holiday!"

He was aghast and found himself stumbling out an apology. "I'm sorry. I had no idea that the outing would cause any difficulties."

"How should you?" she asked curtly. "It's the job of those who care for the children to see that they come to no hurt. This gallivanting about often does so much more harm than good. But no one listens to me."

When he got off the phone, the commander stared into space for a long time, his blue eyes dark with anger and his lips compressed into a grim line. Finally, he reached for the phone once more, asking Miss Ealand for an address. Then he stood up and put his jacket on, straightening the line of it perfunctorily before leaving the office.

He passed through HQ without a word, and no one who saw him asked where he was going in the middle of the shift. One glimpse at his expression was enough to make even Lt. Ford hold his tongue. Someone was in for it, and Ford could only be glad that for once it wasn't him.

* * *

"Mr. Straker!"

In spite of everything, he nearly smiled at her startled expression. "Hello. May I come in?"

Faye opened the door for him, and he entered her flat. Her furnishings and decor surprised him. She had decorated with gleaming antiques, mixing them with rich velvety textures. It was all very tastefully done, making the rooms warm and welcoming; not at all what he'd been expecting from a young single woman. He looked at her more closely, wondering if perhaps she was older than she seemed. Her delicate face was deceptively youthful, dominated as it was by those vibrant green eyes.

And those eyes must have really enjoyed the sight of children, because one entire wall of her living area was covered with photos of them, all pleasingly framed in matching gold frames. It seemed to Straker as if the room was crowded with people, even though they were alone.

"Won't you sit?" she asked him, gesturing to an armchair across from the couch where she'd been working on her laptop.

"Thank you," he said as he sat in the comfortable leather chair.

"Um, I'm afraid I don't have coffee," she said apologetically as she sat. "But you're welcome to tea."

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

After closing the laptop, she sat back on the couch and folded her hands at her knees. "How can I help you?"

"Did you know about Marie?" he asked.

She looked at him in surprise, then dropped her gaze to her hands. "Yes, I was told first thing this morning. She was fine last night; tired out, of course, but refusing to sleep until she told everyone in the ward about her day."

"Miss Birch seems to think that she won't come out of it."

She stiffened. "She had no business saying that to you! There's always hope. Always!"

He sat forward. "Tell me this. How often do the children recover from a coma like this after their special day?"

Faye swallowed, shaking her head. "You can't go by that. Every child is different. These children face with courage every day pain levels that would make most adults crumble. Their little wills are strong. There's no telling what they can accomplish if they put their minds to it."

His lips tightened as he sat back. "You're being evasive. Miss Birch implied that other children have fallen into comas they didn't recover from after one of these outings. Is this true?"

She ran a hand through her hair in a distracted way. "Mr. Straker, you need to understand. The Last Wish program has helped the children, given them hope in a world that offers them none. Sometimes . . . yes. Sometimes once a child has enjoyed their special day, they are ready to go on to what peace awaits them hereafter. We don't encourage them in this at all; we want them to live as long as they can. But for some, the fight is so viciously hard. And they just want it over once their dreams here have been fulfilled."

"And Marie? Is that what she's done?" he asked curtly.

Her eyes met his hard ones for a moment, then returned to contemplating her hands. But he saw the sheen of tears in them and weakened in spite of his anger.

"Marie is . . . like our little mascot," she said softly. "She has been with us for years, and in spite of the disease that has steadily eaten away at her, she is a constant ray of sunshine in the ward. It took her a long time to decide what she wanted to do on her special day, and most of the staff worried that she would die before ever getting to enjoy her last wish. But even when she came up with the idea of what she wanted and we planned it all out, I hesitated to put it into motion. I . . . I didn't want to lose her, you see. And it was a possibility, although a very small one, that she might give up once she'd had her day. But I was glad – so glad – yesterday to be there with her while she experienced her perfect day. She _glowed_, Mr. Straker. She just glowed all day long. It was so wonderful to be a part of that."

He sat forward. "Was it worth it if she dies?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she said quietly, "She's dying anyway, Mr. Straker. Would you have let her die without ever having that perfect day? Without ever knowing what it was like to have all your dreams come true around you?"

He drew a breath. "So. You trade all her remaining months for a single day of fun. And you don't see the monstrousness of that?"

Faye shook her head wearily. "It's not like that! Before the Last Wish program, these children had nothing! Nothing to look forward to except pain day after day until they succumbed to whatever illness kept them in our ward. Now they have hope. They know we can't give them their lives back. But we can give them one day -- a day made just for them, so that when they die, they die knowing something other than pain and more pain."

"It sounds very laudable the way you describe it, Miss Dadd. But surely you can see that the risk is too great? These children have the right to live as long as possible, and your program is shortening their lives."

"Only in a very few cases has anything like that occurred," she defended. "Do you think anyone at the hospital would continue to support the program if this sort of thing happened all the time? Do you really think _I _would continue to do this if it truly shortened their lives?"

"Do you have any children, Miss Dadd?"

"_What?_"

"Do you?"

She shrugged somewhat irritably at the change of topic. "No. Why?"

His eyes met hers unflinchingly as he stood. "Because I did have a son. He's been gone for four years now, and I can tell you that if there was any way, any way at all, that I could have given him one more day -- one more_ hour_ – I would have taken it. And I do not appreciate you placing me in the position of being responsible for shortening Marie's life. You led me to believe I was helping her. That's heinous. Don't ever contact my studio again."

Faye sat in shock as he walked out of the flat, only reacting once she heard the door close smartly. Then she buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

**Chapter 4**

When Alec Freeman entered the HQ office several days later, the commander got up from behind the desk and headed for the door.

"Hey!" the colonel said. "What's the deal?"

Straker looked blankly at him for a moment. "What do you mean, Alec?"

Freeman sighed gustily. "It seems like every time I come into your office anymore, you leave. Are you that tired of my face?"

The commander smiled weakly at him. "No, of course not, Alec! It's just been . . . a rough week. You know how it is whenever we set up a new division here. Sleep becomes a luxury."

"Ed, you don't have to oversee everything personally," his friend protested.

"Yes, I do," the commander replied firmly. "I can't give those children back their parents, their families. But I'll be damned if I don't give them everything I can to help make their lives more bearable!"

Alec opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying anything. Straker had taken this latest attack from the aliens to heart, and it was a good bet that it was because it involved children. One of the multitude of things he knew about their tough-as-nails commander that no one else at SHADO was aware of was that he was a complete softie when it came to kids. God knew why. But he was. And Alec was worried that he was taking this whole thing so hard because it all reminded him of John. And that wasn't a topic he had ever been allowed to discuss with his friend. So what could he say?

He poured himself a drink from the dispenser, then asked, "Are you headed over to the rest home now?"

"Yes. Col. Lake has hired some new clinical staff who will be helping to care for the children. I'd like to see how well they interact with them before I decide if we'll keep them."

Alec nearly winced. He knew how hard it had been for Virginia to find people qualified enough to handle the positions they needed filled at the rest home. He knew, because she had personally bitched at him about it for the past two days. He could only pray that Ed liked their work. Or he knew he'd be hearing all about it from Ginny.

"Well," the colonel said, then stopped. He could hardly say, _Go easy on them, Ed. _Straker never went easy on anyone. Nor could he say, _Don't judge them too harshly_. Because the commander was hard on everyone, and justly so. What they were doing here was just too important for anyone to be laid back about the work they had to do. Which was why Alec was eternally grateful that no one expected _him_ to be commander. "Well," he finally said, smiling weakly. "Have fun."

"Right." Straker's own smile was grim as he left the HQ office.

* * *

It was like being knifed in the chest every time he saw the fourteen children circumstance had placed under SHADO's care. He stood in the observation room and watched on the monitor as the new staff members tried to get the children to play a game. They had been fortunate when the group had been rescued that only two of the youngsters had been injured. And neither the child with the broken arm nor the one with the sprained ankle were in a life-threatening position. It should have been something to be quite pleased about. But somehow no one was acting very pleased. Perhaps because none of the children were responding well to the many efforts made on their behalf to get them to connect with their new surroundings.

"What about that one?" Straker asked Col. Lake softly. "Radhi, isn't he?"

She looked at the screen, noticing the small boy cowering in the corner of the room. "Yes. We'd been worried that we might have to put him on an IV, but Dr. Lindstrom was able to get him to eat a biscuit this morning. However, he still won't leave his corner to eat with the others. We can only hope at this point that he'll eventually adjust enough to come out of his corner."

Straker sighed. Radhi wasn't the only one of the children who preferred a corner to the rest of the large room. He was certain if the room had boasted more than four corners, they would have all still been filled. Initially, he had hoped that the older children might be able to adjust quickly, thereby setting the example for the younger ones. But in truth, the older ones were often the bigger problem. They sulked. Or they threw things. Or, as was the case with two of the older girls, they sat and cried inconsolably with their heads buried in their arms.

"What do you think of the new staff?" the colonel asked.

He said, "They're competent."

He said nothing more, but she detected his displeasure anyway.

"They're doing the best they can, Commander. None of them have dealt with anything like this before. It's going to be slow-going for a while yet."

He sighed again. "I know, Colonel. I guess I was just hoping for the impossible."

She smiled sadly. "You mean, a miracle?"

"Something like that," he said, and met her eyes with a rueful smile. He noticed how tired she looked and said, "The real miracle is that you were able to find staff at all. You did good work here, Virginia. If these children make it through this, it will be because of your efforts more than anyone else's."

His kind words made her throat close up to the point where she didn't trust herself to speak. So she simply shook her head.

He patted her shoulder reassuringly before he left the room. And that small gesture meant more to her than a thousand praises from anyone else.

* * *

For some reason the children at the rest home made him think of Marie. And he didn't want to think of Marie. He gunned the engine of his sleek car, sending it racing down the highway in an effort to outrun his thoughts. He had called every morning, but the reply was the same. Marie was still in a coma. He knew that every day that she didn't waken put her one step closer to slipping away forever. And he couldn't bear it. Couldn't bear that the day that had been so wonderful for him had brought her to this. Couldn't bear that he'd been a part of her undoing.

How he wished he'd shaken Miss Dadd until her teeth rattled.

He hadn't meant to go there. He'd seen enough despair already today to guarantee that he wouldn't sleep tonight. Why compound it further?

But he drove north to the Jonson Foundling Hospital anyway.

Even so, it took him several minutes before he could make himself get out of the car once he had parked at the hospital. The receptionist at the front desk remembered him from his phone calls and kindly offered to get the matron for him. When he was ushered into her office, he was surprised to see that the matron was a tiny woman. Her chair must have been specially made for her or she would never have been able to sit high enough to see over the top of her desk. Her thin face was heavily lined, showing her advanced years, but her brutally straight hair was a defiant (and improbable) black. She looked at him with eyes as dark and piercing as any general's and completely won him over by saying in a deep, gruff voice, "Have a seat, young man."

"Thank you."

"I know who you are," she said once he was seated. "And I'm grateful to you for your help in giving Marie her last wish."

This time it was harder to say the words. "Thank you."

She looked sharply at him, noting his hesitation. But she didn't call him on it. She merely said, "It's hard when they let go. It's always hard, because they're children, and children aren't supposed to die. They're supposed to grow up and become difficult teenagers. But it's harder when they let go of the lifethread that keeps them here with us. Not for them. Oh, no. Once they let go of life, the pain lets go of them. And they're at peace, or almost. But it's hard for us. Because we don't want them to go. Even the troublesome ones are hard to let go. But if they're like Marie, who was the sweetest little angel that anyone ever knew – well. It's especially hard then. You liked her, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did."

She nodded. "Everybody did. And she's going to leave us soon. Much sooner than any of us wanted. Much sooner than we're prepared to handle. But there is one thing that will make it bearable for us to lose her. Do you know what that one thing is, young man?"

"No. I don't."

She smiled at him. It made her wrinkled face scrunch up even more, so that she looked like an octogenarian elf. But her dark eyes were kind. "Why don't you go see for yourself?" she suggested.

* * *

They set a chair by Marie's bedside, so that he could sit with her. She looked so small and pale in the hospital bed. Like a wax doll. Not as though she had ever been a real girl at all; it was as though she had never laughed nor turned cartwheels nor fallen asleep on his lap. And he realized that the matron was right. The Marie he'd known for such a short span of time – just a few short hours – was no longer here. Or only barely here, so that it made it difficult to recognize her. And he didn't have the heart to try and call her back, to make her return to the pain of her life so that he wouldn't feel so guiltridden. She looked so peaceful lying there. He envied her that peace.

He didn't realize that he was crying until he couldn't see her through the tears.

After a long time, he noticed more than her still form lying in the bed. His gaze turned to her bedside table, where stood a framed publicity photo of him as Oberon. Next to it, framed in cardboard covered with an eye-searing candy pink boa, was the photo that Faye had taken of Marie and him at the picnic. His heart broke all over again at seeing their mutual smiles, knowing that they'd never share another moment like it.

When he finally was able to tear his eyes away from the photo, he noticed Carly a few beds over. She was sitting on her bed with a paper doll and several paper dresses strewn across the counterpane. It was obvious that she'd been trying to decide what her doll should wear, but she wasn't paying attention to the doll in her hand at the moment. She was watching him.

After a moment, she climbed down off her hospital bed and came over to Marie's bed. She looked solemnly at him across her friend's still form and said, "Do you like it?"

He was at a loss as to her meaning. "What?"

She pointed to the photo on the table. "The picture of you and Marie that Faye brought. Marie really liked it, so I made a frame for it. I wanted it to be a surprise for Marie when she woke up, but she hasn't yet."

He swallowed before saying softly, "I'm sure she'll love it, Carly. You did a wonderful job."

She nodded. "That's what Faye said. But she always says that. She says I'm creative."

"I think she's right," he agreed.

"Thanks," she said, but not as though it mattered whether he agreed or not. "Have you seen Faye?"

He found that he couldn't meet her eyes when he answered. "Yes. A few days ago."

"Will you tell her that I miss her?" she asked. "She always plays dolls with me and Marie when she comes, but she hasn't been here in _days! _Maybe if you ask her, she'll come back."

He looked at her in silence for a moment, unsure what he could possibly say. Finally he said, "If I see her, I'll ask her for you."

"Okay," she said and went back to her bed, as if the problem was well on its way to being solved.

He watched Carly playing with her paper doll, wondering if he'd been perhaps a little too harsh with Faye. He really hoped that she wasn't staying away from the hospital because of anything he'd said. The volunteer work she did here was admirable. No one was disputing that. That a woman from her social class even cared about the welfare of these poor orphans was surprising. But that she gave of her time and money to try to help them was even more astonishing. It didn't matter that he didn't agree with her methods. The truth was that she had made life a little more bearable for these sick children. The last thing he wanted to do was discourage her from helping them.

He looked around the room at the other beds in the ward. Several of them boasted special photos and trinkets on their bedside tables. One boy had a model of a NASA space shuttle standing next to a framed photo of him with the crew of the Endeavor. Farther down, a girl had a plastic thoroughbred horse next to a photo of her on horseback, grinning into the camera. And there were others. Over half the children in the room had bedside tables that showed evidence of Faye's work on their behalf. And the rest of the tables – including Carly's – had drawings taped to them, showing what the child would like to do for his special day. Although a few of the tables had more than one drawing. Perhaps they hadn't made their choice yet.

Hope. That's what he saw in this room. Faye had tried to explain it to him, but he hadn't understood. These children truly did have nothing. No families. No health. Not even the chance to grow up. But he saw none of the despair here that should have been their constant companion. Instead, he saw hope. Those who had experienced their last wish were clearly basking in the remembered glory of the moment. While those yet to go were eagerly planning what to do when it was their turn.

She'd worked a miracle here. Here where miracles were few and far between. And he'd kicked her in the teeth. He'd let his own grief and guilt over John's death color his judgment to the point that it blinded him to what she'd done. She'd made Marie happy. She'd given her the trip to Fairyland that had been her heart's desire. Complete with Fairy King.

_God, he was a fool!_

He laid a hand over Marie's tiny one on the bed and said softly, "I'll make it right, Marie. I promise you." Then he rose and left the room.

The matron met him in the hall on his way to the entrance. She smiled slyly at him and asked, "Well? Did you figure out why we can let Marie leave us, young man?"

"Yes, I did," he said quietly. "You can let her go knowing that she had her perfect day. That for that one day, she was happy."

"Yes." Her deep voice croaked at him. "No matter what she endured before, no matter what she would have to endure after, for one day she was a normal, well-loved child in the fantasy of her choice. Not many of us can boast of that, can we?"

"No, we can't," he agreed. He shook her little hand and said, "I hope you'll let me come again."

She grinned. "Anytime, young man. Anytime at all."

**Chapter 5**

She frowned when she saw who was standing at her doorstep, and he could tell that she was considering whether to just slam the door in his face. However, manners must have been well-ingrained in her, because after a moment she said, "What do you want?"

"I'd like the chance to apologize."

Faye stared at him, her eyes searching his suspiciously for any sign that his humility was feigned. She must have accepted his sincerity, or perhaps she just wanted him to speak his piece and leave, because she eventually opened the door the rest of the way and said, "Come in."

When Straker entered her seating area, he was surprised to see that there were a few gaps in the pictures on her wall that hadn't been there before. He wondered if she had removed the photos of those children who had died shortly after having their perfect day, and when he turned back to meet her eyes, he was sure of it.

He didn't know if he could undo the damage he'd done to her, but he had to try. "I would very much like to explain."

She shrugged and crossed her arms. "I've already heard your explanation, Mr. Straker."

He nodded, but said, "I need to explain further."

Her green eyes weighed him carefully. Then she said, "Alright."

He noticed that she wasn't inviting him to sit down this time, but he supposed she had good reason. So he would stand. "My son was struck down by a car almost in front of me. He was eight." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. This wasn't a topic he spoke of – _ever. _But it was necessary now. "Because of certain complications, he needed special medicine in order to recover, medicine that wasn't available here, but was still on trial in the States. Of course," he murmured bitterly. "You can pick it up at your local pharmacy these days.

"However." He waved that away. "I managed to pull some strings to get some of the medicine brought overseas to the hospital here. But it was too late. He . . . he died before it got to him."

She came forward and laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. Please. Won't you sit?"

Straker shook his head, denying any need for solace. But he did sit. "An hour. An hour more and he'd be alive today."

"And you live with that knowledge every day," she said softly.

"Yes," he admitted, his inner torment obvious in his eyes. After a moment, he broke eye contact and looked down at his hands, surprised to find them gripped so tightly together in his lap that they were white. He made a conscious effort to loosen his grip, and eventually was able to separate them. "So, you see why I overreacted when . . . "

"Mr. Straker," she interrupted. "It's not necessary to explain any further. I understand."

He looked at her in surprise. "You do?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "And I appreciate very much that you would take the time to make everything clear to me. An apology really isn't necessary. How could you have reacted any other way?"

"But that's not all!" he blurted, afraid that she would dismiss him now. He had to undo what he'd done. He'd promised. "I went there . . . to the hospital. I visited Marie."

Faye flinched, crossing her arms once more, but this time in a protective movement. "I see."

"What you've done there . . . it's incredible. You tried to tell me, but I didn't get it, not until I saw for myself. You . . ."

"Mr. Straker." Once more she interrupted. "The Last Wish program is a good one. I believe that with all my heart. But maybe we need to rethink some things, make sure the children are better able to handle the rigors of a day out. I thought we'd gotten that part down, but obviously it still needs work."

"Miss Dadd." He leaned forward and touched her hand. "Faye. The Last Wish program is an _excellent_ one. Don't allow anyone, myself included, to convince you otherwise. As for Marie . . ."

"Don't!" she whispered.

He gripped her trembling hand in both of his. "Marie wants to go. She's done with this world. You gave her everything her heart had ever longed for, and she's ready now. How fortunate for her that she can die knowing her life was fulfilled. We should all be so lucky!"

"I can't . . . I can't let her . . ." she faltered, her lovely green eyes overflowing with tears.

"I know," he said softly, moving to the couch and holding her as she cried. "It's so hard to say good-bye, especially to someone like Marie. But you didn't kill her, Faye. Her disease is doing that. You didn't even shorten her life. Leaving now is Marie's choice, not ours. And as much as we'd like to change her mind, we can't." He thought of what he'd felt at Marie's bedside and added, "And we shouldn't."

After a while, she lifted her head from his chest and brushed at her cheeks like a child. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

He smiled at her embarrassment. "How old are you, Faye?"

She blinked at him in confusion, her green eyes wide. "What?"

He ran a hand down her hair, putting it back into order. "You see, it's a question that has been bothering me for some time."

"I don't . . ." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I'm thirty-three."

"A baby yet." But she wasn't. He'd held her, and knew that she was no child.

"Yeah, right," she said as she got to her feet and went into the small kitchen area for a glass of water. But when she returned to the living area, she didn't sit, but stood and watched him over the rim of her glass.

He smiled blandly at her, then stood and offered his hand. "Thank you for allowing me to explain things to you. And I hope that you'll contact me again whenever one of the children need an adventure that our studio can give them."

She shook his hand. "That's . . . very gracious of you."

He went to leave, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned to her. "Oh, by the way, Carly said to tell you she misses you."

She met his eyes in surprise, and had no trouble interpreting his look. He was telling her to get back to work. She smiled ruefully.

"Mr. Straker!" she said as he walked out into the hallway. She leaned out her door and said, "How old are you?"

He grinned. "Forty-nine."

Her eyes twinkled at him. "Practically an antique."

He sighed. "Yes. I know."

She winked at him. "I like antiques."

* * *

Ten days later he stopped off in the floral department of the studio to pick up a dozen roses before heading out. As he was leaving the building, Paul Foster was entering. Paul lifted his brows at the sight of his commander with roses.

"A date?" Foster asked, knowing that the chances of that were extremely low. The commander didn't date.

Straker looked at the delicate white petals for a moment, then said, "Yes. I suppose you could say that."

"Oh." Sheer surprise kept Foster silent long enough for Straker to leave the building. By the time he'd figured out what to say, his boss was to his car. So Paul headed down to HQ. Alec might know more about what was going on.

Straker drove north, following Miss Ealand's competent directions. He found the place without difficulty and pulled into the lot. In the foyer, the doorman took the roses, promising to put them in a vase. The commander thanked him, then steeled himself to enter the adjoining long room.

Before he got as far as the doorway, Faye came out. She reached for his hand, but didn't shake it. She merely held it between both of hers for a timeless moment. "Mr. Straker, thank you for coming," she said.

"Thank you for inviting me."

"I didn't get to, I'm afraid," she admitted ruefully as she led him into the room.

"Oh?"

"Matron beat me to it," she explained with a small smile.

His mouth quirked slightly. "I see."

They headed toward the front of the room. Marie lay in a silk-lined casket of polished cherry wood, her tiny hands folded. She wore the lovely fairy costume that she'd worn the day he met her, and the wings were tucked in the casket at her side. Straker lightly touched her soft brown curls, then let Faye lead him away to where the matron waited to talk to him.

He was surprised that Faye wasn't one of the speakers at the funeral. Matron gave a heartfelt eulogy, and a few of the staff members told special stories about Marie. But Faye said nothing. After it was all over, he walked her to her car and asked her about it.

She shook her head. "I can't. Most of what I would say about Marie would have to do with her special day, and that would seem too much like grandstanding. The Last Wish program is my project, after all."

"I don't think anyone here today would see it that way, Faye."

She grimaced as she got behind the wheel. "Maybe not. But I would."

"Will you be okay?" he asked quietly.

She met his eyes in surprise. "Yeah. The guilt was the worst. But you helped me overcome that. So, yeah. I'll be okay. I'll always miss her, though."

"We all will."

"What about you?" she asked. "Will you be okay?"

"Yes," he said. "Once I got past my own guilt, I was able to remember our day together the way she would have wanted me to."

"I'm glad."

"Will you have dinner with me?"

Her green eyes stared at him in shock. She gulped and nodded, speechless for once.

"Good," he said, a twinkle at the back of his eyes. "I have a business proposition for you."

**Epilogue**

Straker stood in the observation room, surveying the children. They were laughing and chattering away in their native Bantu, a rich language that sounded like music. The older children were trying to see who could cover the most wall area with their paint rollers, competing good-naturedly with each other. Straker was betting on Aaliyah to win, a twelve-year-old girl with a strong work ethic who was ignoring them all as she swiftly worked her way down the wall.

But it was the younger ones who made him smile. They had thick paintbrushes, and spent most of their time painting themselves and each other more than the wall. Faye seemed to be a favorite target, and her painter's overalls were liberally spattered from the thighs down with cerulean blue paint. A few members of the clinical staff had gotten into the spirit of the venture and were in coveralls, painting occasionally as they kept an eye on the children.

Eventually Radhi, the clumsiest of the young ones, tripped over a paint tray and landed bottom-first into it. He briefly thought about wailing, but Faye picked him up and settled him on her hip, joking with him until he forgot about his embarrassment. When he finally grinned at her, she gave him a hug and a kiss on his head, then set him on his feet so that he could go back to painting.

Straker wondered vaguely if she'd give _him_ a hug and a kiss if he grinned at her like Radhi had.

It had been an interesting month. Faye had refused to give up her work at the Jonson Foundling Hospital, and he had been proud of her for sticking to it. But she had been intrigued by the challenge he had presented to her, and more than willing to divide her time between the two places. Things had moved quickly then, first getting her the military clearance needed to work with the children and then introducing her to the rest home staff who would be under her supervision. He remembered how she had baulked initially at the idea of being in an administrative position. Until he had shown her how much easier it would be for her to make the necessary changes that way.

He had enjoyed their evening together very much, and had wished more than once that it had been more than a business dinner. He had hoped for another chance to ask her out, but the month had flown by with no opportunity presenting itself. But now things were finally slowing down. The children had responded so well to her loving care that she was no longer needed there at all hours of the day. He knew that she was looking forward to her first weekend off since she started, and he was optimistic about perhaps sharing some of that time with her.

When he left the observation room later, she met him in the hall. She was still wearing her overalls, and he couldn't help it. He had to grin at her appearance.

Faye's eyes twinkled back at him. But she said sassily, "You should be grateful I decided not to draft you into painting."

"You knew I was here then?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I could tell you were watching from the observation room."

He looked puzzled. "How?"

She smiled slyly. "Your stare is different from anyone else's."

He opened his mouth to comment on that absurd statement, but found that he had no idea what to say in answer to it. Finally, he said simply, "I see."

She chuckled. It delighted her when she could confound him. He was usually so unflappable. She said, "I'm having a party Friday night in celebration of my first free weekend. Would you like to come?"

His heart sank. Of course, she would want to have a party. She was a young, vibrant woman, who undoubtedly had a wide circle of friends. "I don't party much," he said.

She nodded. "Me either. In fact, I hate parties usually. But this one is special."

"Oh?" Perhaps he would take the time to go after all. It would be nice to see her in a casual setting, and he could thank her again for all the incredible work she'd accomplished.

"Yeah. The invitation list is short. _Really_ short."

He met her laughing green eyes and felt his breath back up in his throat. He swallowed hard and was finally able to speak. "How short?"

She grinned at him and said, "Why don't you show up and see?"


End file.
